So, the nature of a guilty pleasure is being positively ashamed about the personal satisfaction said pleasure provides. Therefore, it goes without saying how horrific it is for me to reveal to you that my latest guilty pleasure is watching What Not To Wear on TLC. I can truly hear all of you that really know me laughing hysterically. Rather makes you wonder how I can learn so much and apply so little, eh? I know, I know. But look, I'm not here to defend my lack of grace and style. I want to discuss a far more important issue.
I'm staring down the barrel of 35. A matter of minutes here in the mountain zone, and my birthday will throw me into the back half of my thirties. I've scoffed at friends who have had trouble accepting their thirty-fifth birthdays. "What's the big deal?" I thought. "It's just a number, and it beats the alternative!" Though I recognize these to be true when it's my time bomb that's going off, my aforementioned guilty pleasure has given me a whole new framework around which to walk the tightrope of my insecurities.
If you've sacrificed an hour of your life to laugh at, sympathize with, or relate to one of WNTW's makeover stars, you'll know that when Stacy and Clinton transition us to or from their commercial sponsors, we are often flashed a fashion guideline on a bright street sign. It's as though we should follow these instructions as we would instructions to YIELD or to use CAUTION in a SCHOOL ZONE. At first I thought they were silly... ignorable... until recently... when I realized that one of the signs read, "No miniskirts over 35!"
Well, okay nevermind the fact that the only time I wore a miniskirt BEFORE 35 was at an 80's theme party and I donned a pair of opaque black leggings for modesty's (and Cindy Lauper's honor's) sake. The fact is, I became starkly aware that this one step- aging to this one particular number- is taking something away from me! I bet it's just the first in a long line of things. Next I'll be too old to wear my hair long, know all the lyrics to the latest rap hits, or watch the next Twilight movie. Then I'll be too old to roller skate with my kids, wear spandex, or put on a bathing suit that isn't skirted. Then I'll be too old to wear V-neck sweaters, drive a Jeep Wrangler, or wear a skirt without support hose... and it all starts just because Stacy and Clinton tell me I can't do something I never did anyway.
35. I never thought it was all that old until now.
Crap. I only have 5 minutes left to wear a miniskirt...